Fire with a Feline
by SetYourPhasersToFun
Summary: The smallest creatures can be the largest heroes. Excerpt: "The room was deathly quiet. Peter had lost all senses. The fire had dulled his mind into sleep. But the single, soft mew of a tabby kitten rang out like a thunderclap in a library." Follows Kid with a Cat.


Hey There!

Its been a while, Internet. I love checking my email 'cause I get a notification about a review or favorite every few days and it makes me so HAPPY! You guys are awesome! Seriously, you guys are super encouraging and constructive. So even though its been a bit, I haven't forgotten about you all. Here's my reward to you: another one-shot!

This takes place a few weeks to a few months after Kid with a Cat. Let me know what you guys think! Should I keep a series of similar one-shots or try something with real plot? O.O

Without further ado, I present to you lovely readers: Fire with a Feline.

DISCLAIMER: In what world would I own Marvel? I want to live there. I'm stuck here though, so its not mine.

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"My beautiful mansion! The party pad is on fire! This is so not cool!"

"Shut it, Stark! More important matters here!" Clint shouted at Tony in aggravation. He clutched a dislocated shoulder and sported several cuts with burns for added effect. His keen eyes were looking over the slightly singed team.

"Quiet down! Avengers, is everyone out safely?" Captain America himself called out amid the tension. In his arms, he held a little tabby kitten with his shield hung half-heartedly over his shoulder. His skin, once blemished by many small wounds, was even now beginning to heal thanks to a certain super-soldier serum.

"Banner? Are you out here?" Steve questioned the surrounding debris that was one of Tony's (many) beach homes.

A muffled groan responded and the small, beaten figure of the doctor rose to greet them. With a breathy sounding voice, he replied that he was present. Clint walked over to the gentle man and helped him move closer to the group.

"All right. Good to see you, Bruce," the Captain spoke warmly.

"Likewise."

"I know that you're here, Clint. And no one can miss you Tony."

The resounding "hey!" was promptly ignored. Meanwhile, Steve was going over the list in his head. _Romanoff is on a mission and Thor is visiting his lady friend, which leaves…_ his thoughts trailed off as he glanced at the tabby in his arms. Toby gave an adorable, weak mew with eyes wide from trauma.

"Peter! Where are you?!" Steve called out in worry and sudden revelation. Spider-man wasn't with the group! The three other avengers heard him and paused in horror. Frantically, they shouted and waited for a response.

The silent evening was all that met their ears aside from the crackle of still burning timber.

Steve strutted towards the flaming mansion, calling earnestly for any sign of their charge. Clint remained with Banner, who was looking even worse for wear as the minutes wore on. Tony was frantically chatting to JARVIS, who had limited connection to the interfaces of the home.

As he neared the entrance to the home, Captain America shrugged his shield off of his back. Or he would have had he not been interrupted.

The little tabby still nestled in his arms protested wildly. She curled her body in impossible directions and wiggled around until the arms supporting her could no longer contain her. Landing gracefully on her tufted feet, she shook out her fur and rubbed her face against the Captains leg. She seemed to be saying that it wasn't his fault for letting her drop, or even a reassuring touch before she said goodbye.

Without a further thought to the concerned hero, Toby the kitten dashed inside the flaming house.

Stating the Steve was stunned is a slight understatement. He stood at the threshold of a dying home and could feel the heat singeing the fine hairs on his arms. The smoke made his eyes water so he looked as if he were crying to anyone watching. Yet this dangerous situation was nothing to this kitten.

Steve's face changed to one of determination and he charged inside after Toby and his pseudo son.

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Peter coughed harshly. The smoke was filling his room quickly and he had little time. Too bad he didn't have many options. A sharp pain in his ankle and a heavy pressure on his leg reminded him of this.

With his awkward angle, Spider-man couldn't do much to move the support beam lying across his left leg. He grunted under the strain but could do little. He gasped in pain and only breathed in a thick cloud of smoke, resulting in a harsh coughing fit. _I guess that I'll just have to hope that someone will find me…. _He thought as the world around him became hazy and dark.

He took shuddering breaths as smoke curled around his trapped body. The ash burned his lungs and Peter found himself wishing for one of Tony's crazy inventions. He tugged on his leg futilely once again. His breathing was becoming harder as the embers took all of his precious oxygen. His attempts to free himself became feebler as his vision narrowed. He lay down on the ashy floor to try for the last few inhales of oxygen. His arms fell limp at his side as the roar of the fire became his heralding call to the next life. Peter could feel it- death.

It crept a slow hand over his shoulder as the flames started to reach for his scorched clothing. He heard its mysterious whispers of eternal comfort in melody with the thunderous fire. As his body burned, he could feel no pain. Death had a hold of him and would take him to the next life in a gentle painless wave. Spider-man listened closely now. His emotional mind would not let him pass that easily. It feared oblivion, so he listened for any sign of rescue.

The creaking of timber and the cackle of a hungry fire were all that met his ears.

Seconds passed. Then Minutes. Then hours, though Peter had lost all idea of time. The fire was forever eating at him while he lay in a desperate hope, locked in a body contracted to death. He knew it was the end. His emotional mind, while in turmoil, had accepted it. He closed his eyes in surrender.

The darkness closed in as he felt a calming heat warming his suddenly cold body.

He let go.

…

…..

….

….There.

….

….What was that?

….

….It sounded like…. Tapping?

….

….No. it wasn't tapping.

….Scratching? Yes, that was it.

…..

….

Something soft touched Peter's wrist. A feeble mew sounded from that direction. A lightly clawed hand reached out and pressed on his arm. The fur moved up his body, rubbing from his wrist up to his shoulder and tapping his cheek. The mew sounded again.

The room was deathly quiet. Peter had lost all senses. The fire had dulled his mind into sleep. But the single, soft mew of a tabby kitten rang out like a thunderclap in a library. Peter felt the sound pull him away from the gentle wave taking him to death. He opened his eyes.

His hearing was still nonexistent. The flames above him were boiling and curling in a wicked, silent dance. He turned his head to see his savior.

Toby the tabby sat to his right, the fur pressing into his face. The cat was sooty, but appeared unharmed. She mewed again in happiness at seeing Peter awake. Spider-man smiled at his friend, lips cracking open from the movement.

A crash and a yell sounded suddenly from behind him. His hearing came back in an unexpected quickness. He could hear the Captain calling for him and his frantic panic laced movements.

_I…I have to tell him where I am!_ Peter thought. He grimaced as he turned his head towards the sound. He opened his mouth to respond.

"…Steve…" a feeble call was the extent of his strength as he felt the darkness closing in once again.

He saw footsteps running towards him as his eyes closed once again. The roar of the fire died away and he was put again in his soundless realm. In this realm, he heard one clear and concerned meow; then nothing.

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_Three Weeks Later_

"….So I missed a little bit."

"So you did." Clint answered the red haired assassin. With one hand he poured freshly made chicken broth into a bowl while the other hand was occupied with repetitions of curling a heavy barbell weight. He switched hands and carried the tray fitted with a glass of water, broth, and utensils down the hall of the Avenger's Tower. The team had decided that the tower would be the best place to recover from the fire, as it had the best equipment and a lot of resources close by, mostly medical resources.

Clint tapped crisply on a door at the end of the hall. A muffled "come in" sounded and the archer strutted in with his exercise weight in one hand and lunch in the other.

"I thought the doctor said to not do much with that shoulder? The weight seems a little much for 'don't do anything strenuous'." A bed-ridden voice called out to the man.

"Now, now. That's not anyway to talk to the person bringing you lunch. You should be grateful that I put my time into doing this." The archer told Spider-man as he set the tray down on his lap.

Peter was sitting up on pillows, his body encompassed completely with bandages. He was much better after his close call and his burns were healing quickly. Spider-man was caught a few times already for getting out of bed before Banner gave him the OK. Toby was sitting on his lap, purring contentedly at the attention given to her.

"How are you doing?" Natasha Romanoff asked from where she had entered the room.

"Better. Definitely better," the injured man answered between sips of broth. "When can I eat real food?"

"When Banner says you can. And when you can actually keep it down without puking your guts up all over the place," the archer told him. Peter crossed his arms and pouted.

Toby mewed at the superhero when he stopped petting her. She got up proudly and jumped down from the bed. She made her way over to the Black Widow and rubbed against her leg cutely. The assassin picked Toby up and stroked her soft fur. The ash had been washed out and the tiny burns the kitten received had been treated and were almost healed.

The two girls watched the two boys' antics for a while before Peter started to nod off. His medications were always making him drowsy and slightly loopy (Tony in particular took advantage of this side-effect with a few YouTube videos). Clint took his half-empty bowl and left the room silently. Peter fell asleep not long after.

Natasha sat and watched Spider-man sleep for a little, stroking Toby all the while. She let a tiny smile grace her features as she gazed as her pseudo little brother. Her eyes softened at the sight of both Peter and Toby sleeping.

Quietly, she got up and placed the kitten next to Peter's side. She whispered a few words before she left, closing the door behind her as a ghost.

_Thank you, Toby._

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And that's a wrap, Y'all! what do you guys think? Drop me a review!

Have a blessed day!

-Phasers


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